


Happy Accident

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Character Death Fix, Episode: s05e10 Who Are You, F/M, Metahuman Laurel Lance, not Olicity or Felicity friendly, those tags apply to two different characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26682751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: Felicity’s punch has consequences no one intended, driving Oliver to take drastic measures with their own unexpected result.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West, Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen
Comments: 104
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_White_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Wolf/gifts).



> Hello, all! This small-ish story was inspired by a conversation over at the Lauriver discord about 5x10, and in particular the sucker-punch Felicity gives to Black Siren near the end of the episode. The_White_Wolf brought up a PSA campaign that ran in his own country about what the PSA called the "Coward's Punch", and this idea was born. I wrote the whole fic originally as a oneshot, but felt it was a little too long-winded and have broken it up into three chapters, which I will post over the course of the next week or so. I hope that you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Oliver watched, tensed to make some kind of move, to intervene. He couldn’t let this twisted version of Laurel kill Felicity, yet hurting her could possibly be one of the hardest things he’d have to do. His verbal appeal to her not working, however, he was left with little choice.

Curtis intervened before he had to act, using some kind of device to neutralize the Black Siren’s metahuman-enhanced Cry. 

She turned around to look at Curtis with shock and impotent rage, Oliver’s teammate coldly stating, “You really need to shut your damn mouth.”

They could bring her in without violence, Oliver realized with relief. They could secure her to keep her from hurting others, and maybe, just maybe, he could try to reach her and find out why she was so determined to hurt herself.

But then Felicity moved.

“Hey, pumpkin,” she said, just barely catching Siren’s attention before her fist connected with the other woman’s head. Oliver’s heart stuttered in his chest for one crucial moment as he watched Laurel Lance fall to the ground once more. It almost felt like he was stuck in slow motion or even frozen — _just like the damn prison_ — until she hit the concrete floor with a hard _smack_ that jolted him out of his horrified reverie.

“Hey. Kept my wrist straight,” Felicity remarked to him with pride as she straightened up. She eyed him funnily as he failed to provide a response, but as much as he was glad Felicity finally seemed to be picking up defensive maneuvers, but he could not delight in them being used against a woman with Laurel’s face.

And then Curtis, who had gone to handcuff Siren while she remained on the ground, said something that chilled Oliver to the bone: “Uh, guys? She’s not moving. Like at all.”

Oliver rushed forward, crouching on the other side of her as he and Curtis turned her over.

“Oliver, careful, it could be a trick,” Felicity cautioned.

But as he looked upon her pale, unmoving face and the red blood that ran down her temple to her chin with just a small amount continuing to ooze from the wound, he knew it wasn’t. His voice, when he found it, sounded strangled to his ears. “She’s dead.”

“What?” He didn’t know if it was a whisper or a shout; Felicity’s voice sounded far away while his head pounded and his eyes blurred and stung. On impulse, he reached for Laurel’s cooling body, pulling her into his arms.

“Oh God,” Curtis muttered under his breath. “Oh God, oh God.” It was clear the younger man was panicking, maybe going into shock, but Oliver could do nothing for that when he felt like throwing up himself.

Instead, he closed her mouth to rid it of the permanently slack-jawed expression Felicity had unknowingly etched onto her face and slowly stood. His head was bowed, but he still could make out Felicity’s wide and horrified eyes.

“Oliver, I- I didn’t mean to — she was going to _kill_ me.”

“We're going back to the base,” he directed, and something in his tone seemed to work at getting both her and Curtis moving to follow him.

Laying her out of one of the tables was agony, because she looked too much like she had in the hospital. She looked dead, because she’d always been dead. He’d known that; he’d fought to escape a whole other reality because he’d known it was true no matter how much he hoped and wished and dreamed it wasn’t.

As he cleaned the blood from the one side of her face, he could hear the others talking quietly a good distance away.

“I shouldn’t have let her escape. One of the guards could have died, and now _this_.”

“You didn’t know it would happen.” Rory paced the floor, nervous energy rolling off him. They were all nervous and tense, maybe even more so than when the truth about his past as the Hood had come to light. Maybe it was because Oliver was no longer the only one in the room with blood on his hands. “Prometheus was there. We almost caught him.”

“It wasn’t your tech that did this,” Rene was offering Curtis in comfort.

All Oliver was really hearing was excuses. Reasons this wasn’t their fault, reasons it wasn’t so bad that a woman was dead, again, because of mistakes made by him and his team, _again._

“My wrist is really gonna hurt while typing tomorrow,” Felicity muttered. “I guess I deserve that.”

Something broke in Oliver at that word as he stared down at Laurel’s long lashes fanned over her cheeks and her blackened lips. “You deserved better.”

“What was that?” Felicity called, the rest of the base falling silent and still.

“I said she deserved better,” Oliver said, speaking at normal volume as he finally turned to face his team. “Laurel deserved better.”

The recruits looked at each other, clearly unsure what to say. Felicity stepped forward. “Yes, _our_ Laurel deserved better, Oliver. And I’m sorry that this other Earth version of her died, but she wouldn’t have hesitated to kill any of us.”

“You put her in a position to,” he reminded her, not nearly so willing as Rory to make excuses. He was tired of protecting Felicity’s innocence when she wouldn’t even defend his actions to the others. “With our Laurel, I can at least lay the ultimate blame for what happened on Darhk. But this? We did this. We have to fix it.”

Felicity recovered herself and asked, “How?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’m gonna find out.” Constantine had gotten back from his trip to Hell months ago. Oliver had the chance to ask his advice this time, something he hadn’t had when they’d lost their Laurel.

Maybe he’d just say it was hopeless. But maybe he wouldn’t. All Oliver knew was, he couldn’t just accept that this had happened. He wanted more for Laurel, even if she wasn’t his.

Oliver got out his phone and stepped away to make the call with one final warning. “Do _not_ touch her while I’m gone.” Then he marched from the room that was silent enough to be this Laurel’s tomb.

\---

Felicity was still struggling to process what had happened in the last 48 hours. She had thought her dead friend was back, gotten suspicious that she wasn’t, proved that suspicion was right and then… killed her not-friend?

It sounded horrible like that. She hadn’t _meant_ to kill anyone. She never did! And it had basically been self-defense. The others all agreed.

But Oliver didn’t.

He had been off-center for a while. If Felicity had to put a date on it, she’d say since April. Since Laurel’s death, the _real_ Laurel’s death. And he had only grown more so in the last month or so, since they had all teamed up to fight the Dominators. Maybe it had been from facing Sara for the first time since her sister died. Maybe he was just struggling in his own way to process that they were living in a timeline just slightly to the left of what they’d been living months ago.

But neither of those reasons explained his fanatical need to help this new version of Laurel, to reach her. Was it his Helena Complex rearing its ugly head, or was it simply because she looked like Laurel? If the latter, that did not bode well in Felicity’s eyes at all.

She looked across at the dead woman, recalling her mocking words and the smirk on those now-smudged black lips. How could she hold such a sway on Oliver when they were, for all intents and purposes, strangers? Why did it _always_ have to be Laurel?

“Look, I’m sure this, uh, whoever he’s calling is gonna set him straight,” Curtis offered timidly. “He’s just in shock. I mean, _I’m_ in shock. Honestly? I’d prefer she be alive because I am _not_ gonna be able to sleep tonight knowing I helped—”

“You didn’t help anything. The concrete killed her,” Felicity decided crisply. Black Siren could have tripped in her heeled boots and cracked her head open, and it would have ended the same. It’s not like if this went to court that Felicity would be charged with the first degree. The real Laurel would’ve told her that, probably defended her if it came to that.

“Well, you did help her _down_ to the concrete,” Rene said, not looking all that apologetic when Felicity glared at him.

Oliver re-entered the room then, so they all shut up, and Felicity was dismayed to see the spark of hope in his eyes. “Oliver?”

“There’s other Lazarus Pits.”

Her heart dropped somewhere deep into her stomach. “What?”

“Constantine. He says Ra’s didn’t have the only one. We can bring her back.”

Felicity knew the others were lost — probably wondering what the heck a Lazarus Pit _was_ — but she didn’t care. She marched towards Oliver instead. “No, we can’t. The Pits are dangerous and using them irresponsibly like this — Malcolm warned you about Thea, and you didn’t even want Laurel to use it on Sara!”

“And both Sara and Thea are fine now. We’ll restore Laurel’s soul and get the Lotus.”

“Not even the Lotus is going to cure her wanting to _kill me_ ,” she stressed. “I mean, what is the plan after you bring Prometheus’ metahuman lapdog back from the dead, Oliver? Just let her run around screaming people to death?” There probably wouldn’t be much difference between the soulless version and Black Siren in that regard.

Oliver wasn’t even facing her, too busy repacking his quiver. “We will transfer her to a secure ARGUS facility. From there, I can talk to her, try to reach the part of her that has to be like the Laurel we knew.”

“While ordinarily I would _love_ to celebrate this newly optimistic version of you, I think you’re just repeating history here, because this sounds a lot like Helena Bertinelli.”

“This is not about Helena!” He finally snapped, finally facing her, except he was clearly angry, which Felicity hadn’t wanted. “It hasn’t been about Helena in years, and if you didn’t bring her up every time we had an argument, I might have forgotten she was ever part of my life. This is about _Laurel_ , about giving her another chance, believing in her when—” To her surprise, the anger that had been building in him seemed to deflate, and his shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. “When I didn’t before.”

Felicity closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course it was about Laurel. It was _always_ about Laurel. She wouldn’t be surprised if _Helena_ has really just been about Laurel all along.

“When this inevitably goes sideways, I am going to be there to remind you that I told you so.”

“I know you will be,” Oliver said wearily.

“And I’m gonna be there, too,” Curtis piped up unexpectedly. “I have to see this through.”

Oliver gave Curtis nod. “John sent me the location of one of the Pits. We’re meeting him there in two days, so make any arrangements you need. Rene, Rory, keep up your patrols. Thea’s on her way back and should be able to help with any questions or emergencies.”

“Fine by me, Hoss.”

Rory gave a short nod. Felicity has really been hoping for someone to ask Oliver to stay instead.

But here they were again, going on another ill-advised trip to the Lazarus Pits.

\---

Oliver was too preoccupied with carrying one end of the makeshift casket they had place Earth-2’s Laurel Lance in to shake John’s hand where they met at the bottom of the mountain in Siberia, but he did say, “Thanks for agreeing to this.”

“What can I say? The pretty girls in your life left an impression on me.”

He heard Felicity’s scoff behind him. He didn’t think Curtis had even registered the remark, too busy muttering under his breath about trying not to focus on the fact he was carrying the other end of a casket.

“Truth is, this helps me as well,” Constantine admitted as they started the trek upwards. “There’s been rumors that bad actors are looking for these Pits since Nanda Parbat’s destruction. Gives me the opportunity to layer at least this one with some protection and concealment magic.”

Oliver nodded. If this meant he and John were still even by the end of this, he wouldn’t complain.

By the time he called for them to veer off the common path, both Felicity and Curtis had put in their fair share of complaints about the climb. Oliver had done his best to ignore both or to keep from pointing out that neither of them had really worn the right shoes for it, though at least Felicity’s boots didn’t have her customary heel.

“Through here,” John instructed, directing them towards a crevice Oliver might have otherwise passed up. It was going to be too tight for the casket.

“Lower it — gently, Curtis!” He scolded, as the other man quickly set his end down with a sigh of relief.

“Sorry.”

Oliver set his own end down and opened the lid. Under the shroud, the body was cold and stiff in his arms. His mind went back to his father, and he fought down the usual wave of nausea.

Inside, a Pit much like the one he had seen in Nanda Parbat bubbled with the mystical waters. Oliver waited as the others all filed in.

“So, what happens now?” Curtis asked?

“Well, last time there was a priest lady who did a chant,” Felicity explained. “Do we need the chant? Does it not work without it?” Oliver couldn’t help noting she seemed hopeful that was the case.

“Nah, that’s just all for show,” Constantine said. “You can lower her in, Oliver.”

He did so slowly, pulling the shroud off as she slid down under the bubbling water. Moments after her head disappeared beneath the surface, the waters stilled.

“Curtis, Felicity, stand back,” Oliver instructed, though Felicity was already doing so.

“Why?”

“If this works, she’s gonna be a little disoriented.”

“Well, you catch her, and I’ve got something to put her to sleep to make the soul retrieval a little easier,” John told him to his left. Oliver nodded, swallowing once as the waters began to roil once again. Here went nothing…

Laurel’s body, rejuvenated and alive, sprung from the water straight over his head. Curtis let out a shriek if terror, and Felicity darted back through the crevice towards the entrance of the cave. Before Laurel’s soulless body could make another move, Oliver seized her from behind, lifting her feet off the floor and getting the whole front of his jacket and pants wet as she struggled to free herself from his hold.

John thrust something under her nose and spoke some sort of incantation. Instantly, she went limp. “There. Not so hard?”

“Nope,” he agreed. Oliver looked down at her. Were she not still wearing the Black Siren suit, he wouldn’t be able to tell a single difference between her and his Laurel. If they had only known about this Pit last year, before they had been forced to announce her death and her identity to the public… he would have to settle for making this right.

Oliver laid her down, this time on the ground far enough from the Pit for John to begin drawing his circle and placing those items only he knew the purpose of. By the time he had finished, Felicity crept back in with a muttered, “It’s freezing out there.”

“Now then, I need at least a volunteer to go with me to the other realm,” Constantine said. “I assume Oliver’s game, but is there anyone who might have known her better?”

“Too bad we couldn’t ask Prometheus,” Felicity snarked.

Oliver just looked her in the eye. “You coming?”

She shook her head. “I can’t even fight.”

He bit back the remark that they wouldn’t be here right now if not for her foray into the field, and instead said, “John and I would take care of it. You would just help to pull her out.” Given it had taken two of them to pull _Sara’s_ soul out of the darkness it had been trapped in, he couldn’t imagine it would be any easier to extricate Black Siren’s soul. “You trust me?”

“Oliver… I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said, one hand raised as she shook her head in denial.

“Okay,” he replied, his voice tight. “Curtis?”

“I think I should stay and stand guard,” Curtis suggested. “In case those other guys that want the Pit show up.”

“Fine,” he bit out. “Let’s go, John.”

“Very well,” his friend said, then raised his hands, his eyes rolling back a little as he spoke in that strange tongue again. Oliver stood over this Laurel and waited for the familiar sensation of being sucked away in a blinding flash of light.

Darkness met him. Oliver blinked, but it didn’t go away. “John?”

“I’m here,” his friend said very close, yet Oliver could not see him. “Damn, I was worried about this.”

“What _is_ this?” He raises his hand up and moved it to touch his face, and _still_ he couldn’t see it.

“You said this was a Laurel from another Earth. I think her soul must have fallen out of our vibrational frequency. I don’t think we can reach her.”

“What, there’s just nothing here?” That couldn’t be it. There had to be something, some way to do more. If it was vibrations, maybe they just needed Cisco.

“I’m sorry,” John started to say, but Oliver shushed him as he heard another voice far off in the distance.

“Ollie?”

“Did you hear that?” He asked bear a whisper.

“Hear what?”

They both listened. The silence seemed to stretch on an age before it was broken, so much so he had started to wonder if he’d made it up.

“Ollie?” The voice asked again, and there was no mistaking it this time. Oliver’s heart leapt.

“She’s still here,” he said, and started walking towards it, almost wading through the strange darkness. “Laurel?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m coming to you. Just keep talking.”

“Oliver! Don’t go too far.”

But he couldn’t heed John’s warning, not when he was so close. He reached and reached out, no even able to see his hands through the unending darkness, not until he suddenly stepped through what could have only been a barrier of some kind separating the inky black space from here, in the light.

It was a cosy studio apartment that met his eyes. A desk stood against one wall piled high with work while a punching bag hung in the opposite corner. Candles sat in the fireplace, and Laurel herself stood in the center of the room as if she had just risen from the couch.

“How did you…?” She seemed just as stunned to see him as he was to see this.

He had expected a fight, some kind of representation of the pipeline or Prometheus or Zoom. What did it mean that _this_ was her soul? Was he right that beneath all the snark and the cruelty, there was someone like the Laurel he had loved and lost?

“You’re going to need to come with me,” he said, holding his hand out, and to his disbelief she took it without argument.

“But what are you doing here?” Almost without argument, then. Trust Laurel.

“To make things right. I’m sorry for what happened with Felicity.”

Her mouth fell open, though she said nothing. Oliver wondered if she had forgotten what had happened here in this place, if death was that kind.

He had begun walking backward the way he’d come, and she went with him. Rather than return to the total darkness, however, it was almost like the light from the room he had found her in followed them, lighting their way just a few inches ahead at a time.

“Oliver, where the bloody hell are you?” John’s voice called from up ahead, apparently still stuck in the dark. “I have to take us back now!”

“Then do it, John! I found her!” He shouted back. “We can go home!”

“Was that Constantine?” Laurel asked, and the satisfied grin on his face slipped.

“How do you know who Constantine is?”

Laurel — and it struck him then just how much like _Laurel_ she truly looked and sounded — opened her mouth, but there was a blinding flash of white light, and Oliver found himself blinking the spots from his vision and standing in the cave again.

On the ground, Laurel blinked and slowly sat up, looking down at herself in clear disorientation.

“Well, not sure how we managed it, but another successful restoration,” John said.

“Congratulations,” Felicity remarked dryly. “We should definitely cuff her now.”

Oliver placed a hand on Curtis’ shoulder to block him when he came up with the meta cuffs. “I’m not sure we did exactly what we meant to.”

Laurel coughed a couple times and asked, “How did we get here, and who put me in these clothes?”

“We did something better,” he said quietly, a smile blooming on his face as she turned her gaze towards him.

“Fishnets, Ollie. Really?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Work let out early unexpectedly for me, so I thought I would surprise you with an update to this story. I really do appreciate all the feedback the first chapter got, and I do intend to respond to all the comments, hopefully by tonight. I just thought you'd like something new to read more first.
> 
> I will say, I understand the mixed feelings some have about Black Siren being dead in this story. This isn't something I think the show could've or even should've done, it's mostly just a what-if and draws a little inspiration from some of the older comics where a similar soul-body replacement happened regarding Black Canary. But I do get if people don't love that, and thank you for giving this a read regardless.
> 
> At any rate, I hope that people do enjoy this next chapter, and hopefully the thrid chapter will be uploaded before the weekend is over. Thanks for reading!

It was difficult trying to move in all this wet leather that clung to her skin like it was stuck with glue. Being cold and uncomfortable was distracting in itself; she hadn’t had any physical discomfort in that other realm, hadn’t wanted for any material need.

But now she was here in the real world, she was pretty sure. Oliver had brought her back even though she’d thought that was impossible now. “Is that a Lazarus Pit?”

“Yeah. Turns out there were more.” He pulled a big, fluffy towel out of a pack that Laurel eagerly took when he crouched down to pass it to her. He stayed there, smiling at her in a way he hadn’t for a long time, a way that always guaranteed to turn her insides to mush. Laurel tried to find something else to distract herself with.

“Who painted my nails black?” She was really starting to worry about her dad’s mental state if this was what he’d chosen to lay her to rest in.

“...you did?” A vaguely familiar voice said in what seemed to be a question. Looking past Oliver allowed her to see Curtis Holt, the man that had helped them save Oliver’s life and rescue Thea and Felicity from Brie Larvan’s attack on Palmer Tech. Felicity was here, too, staring at Laurel with an unreadable expression on her face.

Constantine had circled around to stare at her as well. “Oliver, if something’s gone sideways, I need to know.”

“It hasn’t — it’s not bad. You were right, I couldn’t find Black Siren’s soul.”

“Oh, she didn’t have one? Color me shocked,” Felicity muttered.

To Laurel’s surprise, Oliver ignored her entirely. “But it turned out that, even though _her_ soul had fallen out of our Earth’s vibrational frequency, _Laurel’s_ hadn’t.”

“Wait,” said Curtis. “You’re telling us this is Laurel-Laurel? Like the good one?”

Laurel raised an eyebrow at that. Since when had she been a ‘bad one’?

“Yes,” Oliver confirmed.

Felicity’s mouth fell open. “Laurel body-snatched her own doppelganger’s body?”

“This isn’t my body?” Laurel asked, her heart — or someone’s heart — doing a funny lurch. She ran both hands down her face. Everything _felt_ like herself, except — was there a _hole_ in her nose? She had a nose ring now?

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Oliver promised, his hands on her shoulders helping steady her. Behind him, Curtis and Felicity seemed less convinced.

“Oh man. Oh _man_ , this is way beyond what I signed up for.”

“Why did you grab the wrong soul? You really thought it was a good idea to just mix and match people’s souls? This could be a disaster!”

“If everyone could shut it a moment?” Constantine demanded loudly, and they did. He nudged Oliver back a couple feet and stood over her, waving his arms and murmuring what to her basically sounded like gibberish under his breath. When he at last stopped, his shoulders sagged in relief. “For better or worse, she’s stable. An exorcism shouldn’t be necessary, and it’d be damn difficult to do since she is so compatible with this body.”

Laurel leaned slightly away at the word ‘exorcism’, but felt the tension leave her upon hearing the rest. She wasn’t totally sure how she felt inhabiting what was apparently a version of her body from another Earth. And really, what had happened to the other her that had _led_ to Laurel inhabiting this body?

“How exactly did the other me die?” She asked. She had to assume the other her had died if they’d been trying to get her back with a Lazarus Pit.

The range of reactions was something to behold; from Oliver’s wince to Curtis squeezing his eyes shut and shying away to Felicity’s stiff, “There was an accident. But that doesn’t really matter, now, because… you’re back. The real you, this time. Kind of ironic considering she pretended to _be_ you at first.”

“She did?” Laurel really wasn’t sure what to think from the bits and pieces she was learning about the other her – though she couldn’t help thinking that _real_ was an oversimplification of what she was in relation to her doppelganger. Her doppelganger had been real, too, had lived and died. Was it right for her now to be living in her place?

Laurel didn’t want to be dead, though. Before she had died had been some of the best months of her life; she’d finally felt like she had everything to live for. She couldn’t and didn’t want to change that she was back, as selfish as it seemed.

“It’s a long story,” Oliver said. “There’s a lot we’re gonna have to catch you up on.”

“Wish I wasn’t used to that feeling.” Laurel shifted so that she could get back onto her feet — or her doppelganger’s feet. She didn’t know if she ought to keep reminding herself of that out of respect to the other woman or if it was just going to end up driving her mad. She was a little unsteady in the heeled boots she had on considering her feet were still damp inside them, and Oliver rose to his own feet to steady her, one hand on her arm, the other supporting her back. She smiled up at him a bit timidly; that other place she had been in was beginning to fade from her mind, and Laurel couldn’t help but to focus on the last conversation she remembered having in the land of the living until now.

“I’m going to need all of you to step outside while I place the protective enchantments over this Pit,” Constantine said.

They filed out, Laurel wrapping the towel tighter around her shoulders as she was met with cold mountain air. Oliver guided her to shelter against an outcrop of rock, one hand rubbing her back to help warm her.

“So what was the plan after this, exactly?” Felicity shouted to be heard over the wind. Laurel shifted to try and make a little more room for her friend to come stand with them, yet Felicity remained where she was using Curtis as a buffer.

“I was going to call a secure ARGUS transport,” Oliver said. “But we don’t need them now.”

“We do need a way to get a legally dead woman back into the US, though,” Curtis pointed out. Laurel found herself wondering why he was here. Not that she had anything against Curtis, she just would have pictured John or Thea being the third person to accompany them on this resurrection mission. Then again, she had no way of knowing how long it had been or what might have happened to Thea or John in the meantime. That was an unpleasant thought.

Oliver nodded. “Felicity, see if you can get a hold of Cisco.”

Their friend turned away to do just that. Laurel desperately wanted to know why there was still such a coldness between the pair, and why it no longer just seemed to be on Felicity’s side of things. And why had Oliver apologized to _her_ about Felicity? Except it hadn’t been to her, it had been to some other version of her. Something had happened that no one seemed to want to get into right now. She’d let it go for a time, but once she was warm and in comfortable clothes, Laurel wanted to know just what exactly had been going on while she was dead.

Constantine joined them outside. “Well, you lot got a way back yet?”

“Working on it, John,” Oliver told him.

“Then I suppose this is goodbye for now,” he said. “Laurel, always a pleasure.” The man leaned in and gave her a light peck on the cheek, which Laurel couldn’t help noticing had Oliver grimacing. “You take better care of these Lance girls, Oliver, or I might have to steal them from you.”

“Well, Sara speaks for herself, but I’m happy where I am,” Laurel said before Oliver could try to speak up on her behalf. He looked mollified by her answer anyway.

Constantine shrugged with a grin. “Worth a try. Right then, I’ll be off. Good luck in your new life!” He turned and sauntered down the mountain path, only the trail of cigarette smoke left in his wake after a moment.

“Cisco says he’ll make the breach and that we just step through,” Felicity shouted. “He doesn’t want to come to Siberia, apparently. Can’t imagine why.”

“Step through what?” Laurel asked, but then her answer arrived in the form of a strange, blue, rippling circle of energy opening up just a few feet ahead of them.

“Oh, thank you,” Curtis said before promptly running through it and not coming out the other side.

“Ollie?” Laurel asked.

“Just trust me,” he said, taking her hand as Felicity went through next. Laurel nodded and walked through it with him.

She could see nothing but blue all around them for a moment, and then they had somehow stepped out into some sort of command center of a room with computers and metal tables. Caitlin Snow and Cisco were there, along with a woman Laurel didn’t know.

“Thanks for the pickup,” Felicity was saying as she rubbed her hands together. “I was not looking forward to going back down that mountain.”

“So what were you all doing out there anyway?” Caitlin asked. She froze as her gaze passed over all of them and stopped on Laurel. “Oh!”

“Uh, hi,” said Laurel. “I’m back.”

Rather than surprise or even happiness meeting that statement, however, Caitlin paled, the unknown woman reached for a gun and Cisco sent some kind of blast of that blue energy at her, knocking her clean off her feet.

“We’ve got Siren!” He called out.

“Hey!” Oliver rushed to her side, but to her own amazement, Laurel was already shaking it off and getting back to her feet with her fists clenched. Figured this was the kind of welcome she got when coming back from the dead. “Just give me a minute to explain,” Oliver was saying.

Laurel saw a streak of lightning rush into the room straight toward her, her fight or flight response kicking in of its own accord. Without her even willing it, she released a scream like she used to with her choker device. Except instead of it just producing a noise this time, she felt the power of it rush out of her in waves that impacted Barry and pinned him against the opposite wall.

“Laurel, Laurel, stop!” Oliver’s hand on her arm snapped her out of her fighting stance, and the scream let up.

She backed up a couple steps, one hand going to her throat. “How did I do that?”

“It- she could do that,” he answered. “She was a metahuman.”

“Oliver, are we sure she isn’t still — that maybe some of _her_ is still in there?” Felicity asked, eyeing Laurel warily.

“John didn’t seem to think so.”

“Okay, is someone going to actually _explain_ what we’re talking about and why Black Siren shouldn’t go back in the pipeline?” Cisco asked, loud enough to cut through what seemed to be a brewing argument.

“Because I’m not Black Siren,” Laurel said. “I’m me. And I didn’t mean to do that just now. I didn’t even know I could. I’m sorry,” she said to Barry, who was just struggling to his feet with the unnamed woman’s help.

“Well, thanks for the apology,” he grunted. “But I’m not following. You’re not Black Siren, you just have her clothes and her powers and look just like her?”

“Well, that’s what happens when Oliver decides to drop original Laurel’s soul in Black Siren’s body on a whim,” Felicity remarked.

The Flash team all looked suitably stunned. Laurel shifted a bit uncomfortably. She really didn’t know what the process was for accepting that you were yourself, but slightly _not_ at the same time. Somewhere else, the body she had always known was still rotting away in a grave. Somehow she kept whatever contents might have been in her other self’s stomach at the thought.

“So… she’s _our_ Laurel instead?” Caitlin asked at last.

“Yes,” Oliver seemed glad to answer.

Cisco was the first of the group to approach, scrutinizing her for a long moment. “What was the thing I asked for in exchange for the Canary Cry?”

“What did I say I’d do if you showed anyone?” Laurel answered with her own question. The others looked, if anything, even more wary.

But Cisco’s face split into a wide beam. “Can I hug you?”

Laurel, who had not been hugged yet since coming back from the dead, opened her arms obligingly. Cisco practically flew into them.

“We missed you so much! I love how no one from Star stays dead!”

Cisco’s teammates were all relaxing now that he had given the green light of sorts, and one by one approached her for hugs as well, though in the case of the woman who came up after Barry it was accompanied with a, “I’m Iris. It’s really great to finally meet the you the others have all told me about.”

“Thank you.”

“And you’re a metahuman now? I mean, this is even more awesome,” Cisco was saying.

“Is no one really going to miss the other me?” Laurel couldn’t help asking. A part of her felt she ought to stick up for her not-self.

When her question was met with a round of shaking heads from just about everyone but Oliver, she cringed. She could only imagine the worst.

“So how exactly did her soul replace Black Siren’s? And how are you gonna explain Laurel’s being alive? I mean, is she gonna resume living in Star?” Barry was asking Oliver. They were good questions, but Laurel was honestly starting to feel a little overwhelmed to consider it all. She still didn’t even know how long she’d been dead for.

“You look like you could use a shower and maybe some of your own clothes,” Iris noted. “Come on, I can show you where to find stuff.”

“Thanks,” Laurel said, catching Oliver’s eye briefly as she made to leave the room. He nodded, indicating he understood where she was heading, then returned to speaking with Barry. “So, when did you join Barry’s team?”

“Oh, I’ve known for a couple years now,” Iris answered her. “But I’ve known Barry since we were kids. We finally decided to give dating a shot a couple months ago.”

Laurel returned Iris’ happy smile with one of her own. “Good for you. Dating your best friend… it’s really special.” It had been one of the happiest times of her life before it was over.

But why was it starting to feel like Oliver didn’t think it was? Was it his happiness to have her back that she was misreading, or had something changed in a way she’d never dared to hope?

\---

Barry gestured for Oliver to follow him out into the hall since Felicity and Curtis were already talking with Caitlin and Cisco. “So how exactly did this all start?”

“That’s a long story,” Oliver said with a sigh. “But I guess it started when Black Siren really did come to town. Prometheus, another archer, had broken her out and wanted her to pass herself off as our Laurel to mess with our heads, I guess. We ended up realizing it was a trick and capturing her, only Felicity let her escape to try and follow her to Prometheus,” Oliver explained, a frown on his face as he continued, “which nearly killed a security guard and led to Siren dying when Felicity sucker-punched her.”

Barry’s eyes went wide. Felicity had _killed_ someone? He just couldn’t picture it. “And then?”

“And then, I… I don’t know if I can explain what watching her die again was like for me, Barry. My own team doesn’t even understand it. I called John Constantine, and maybe it was rash, but when he told me there were still other Lazarus Pits out there, I couldn’t just… not when my team was responsible. Not again. I know that sounds — she wasn’t even my Laurel—”

“No, I get it. I’ve met other versions of my loved ones, too. It affects you.” He could still remember holding Earth-2’s Iris close as her Joe slipped away from them at the hospital, a lump in his throat that had made it painful to breath. “And trust me, you don’t have to explain what watching something like that does, how desperate it makes you. I know.”

And the thing was, Barry thought he was starting to get something else, too. He had heard about Oliver and Felicity’s breakup last year a month or so after it had happened. When they had all met up to combat the Dominators last month, the two had seemed on good enough terms for a working partnership, but nowhere near the level of intimacy they had had the same time last year — when they hadn’t been fighting in one timeline, Barry supposed.

So when Oliver had told him about the dream world the Dominators had stuck him and some of the others in, that it had been a perfect life with his parents still alive and him about to be married to the love of his life, Barry had wondered at the time about the lack of a name. Part of him had assumed that Felicity had been implied, yet now he was starting to think that hadn’t been correct. Especially when Oliver and Felicity hardly even seemed cordial with each other now if Felicity’s sarcastic remarks and Oliver’s clear frustration with her actions towards Black Siren were any indication.

“Thank you, Barry,” Oliver said, drawing him out of those thoughts.

“Hey, you were there for me about Flashpoint. I am always gonna be in your corner no matter what the call,” he said. “So I guess you guys went to this Pit?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, we met John there and restored Siren’s body to life. When people are fully killed, their souls have to be restored separately. Laurel and I rescued Sara’s last year, but when I went in with John this time, there was nothing at first. He thinks that because she was on a different world to her own, her soul was lost to us.”

“Wow,” Barry said, making a mental note never to die on another Earth. “You said there was nothing at _first_?”

“Yeah. But then I heard a voice calling for me. It was Laurel. I don’t know how or why they were connected like that, how she knew I was there. But I am so thankful.”

It was hard to wrap his head around. Barry was a scientist first and foremost, no matter how strange the science in his life had become. He didn’t fully understand everything that went on in Star these days any more than they seemed to understand metahumans. Though who knew if that would change now that Laurel was one.

But if Laurel was alive again and Oliver was happy, then Barry supposed the rest of it didn’t matter much in the end how it had happened. Just that it had.

“What are you going to tell people? I mean, everybody knows she was the Black Canary.”

Oliver looked down. “I wish Evelyn’s actions hadn’t made me do that, now. I haven’t spoken to Laurel yet about what people know. We’ll have to figure something out.”

Barry nodded. Anything else he might have said, however, would have to wait, as footsteps announced the arrival of Iris with Laurel. His girlfriend had supplied Laurel with the full STAR Labs apparel line, it looked like, and the two were chatting away like old friends as Laurel towel-dried her hair.

“And there they are,” Iris remarked, smiling at Barry in a way that always made his stomach do funny flips. He couldn’t help but notice Laurel’s smile seemed to be having the same effect on Oliver.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

“Yeah, now that I’ve sort of taken stock of things.”

“Oh?”

“Well, other me clearly got into her fair share of fights judging by some of the scars I have,” Laurel remarked. “Kinda weird they’re in different places than mine were. Also, I have tattoos, now.”

“Really, where?” Oliver asked with a grin that had Barry’s mouth dropping open.

Laurel, for her part, just rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“C’mon, we better regroup with the others,” was all Oliver said in reply, still grinning as he offered Laurel his arm. She took it, and the two headed back into the cortex.

Iris stepped up to Barry’s side and slipped her arm around his back, her head leaning on his shoulder. “Aw, I’m glad they’re still cute. Teenage me’s kind of having a freak out right now.”

“Yeah?” Barry shook his head. Iris and her magazines. He much preferred her writing. Together, they followed their friends back into the room.

Caitlin and Cisco had abandoned their conversation with Curtis and Felicity to come see Laurel again.

“We have some data on hand about the sonic scream already, of course, but it’d be amazing to get a full, comprehensive picture now that you’re the one in control of it.”

“Also, I’m thinking suit update. I mean, what’s a back from the dead party without presents? If you let me keep Siren’s suit for the measurements, I can have it ready by the end of the week.”

“Thank you,” Laurel said. “That’s really sweet.”

“It is, but you guys _might_ be getting ahead of yourselves,” Felicity interjected. “Let’s not forget that Oliver kind of outed Laurel as a superhero last year.”

Barry winced as the smile dropped off Laurel’s face while she backed a step away from the group, away from Oliver. “What?”

“Yeah, right over your grave,” Felicity added.

“There was a situation with an imposter,” Oliver explained. “I was going to tell you. I just wanted you to have some time.”

“Well, she did need to know, Oliver,” Felicity argued. “I mean, I don’t even know if Laurel can come home with us, at least not publicly.”

“We will figure it out,” he said, his voice taking on a harder edge that Barry knew meant it was time for the other person to stop pushing. But Barry also knew Felicity tended to struggle with those sorts of social cues.

Sure enough, his socially awkward friend continued, “How? This isn’t exactly something you can take back. I mean, you had a statue built in Laurel’s honor — even if her doppelganger just destroyed it — and Quentin even confirmed he knew Laurel’s identity which cost him getting his job back—”

“My dad gave up his job?” Laurel asked, looking distressed at the prospect.

“It wouldn’t have been good for him to take it, Laurel, he needed the time in rehab,” Felicity said, and though her tone was a soothing one, Laurel did not look any calmer, and Barry didn’t blame her. 

There was something about the smile playing around Felicity’s lips that didn’t quite seem sympathetic and raised the hairs on the backs of his arms. He had spent enough time over the last few years with men who had claimed to have his best interests at heart all the while that they schemed and acted to hurt him, and he had gotten good at spotting the feeling. But why would _Felicity_ of all people be giving him that feeling?

“That’s another thing, actually,” Felicity was saying the same time that Barry’s mind raced with these observations. “If Quentin hears about Laurel being back, he’ll want to check himself out in the middle of his treatment. You really did not think through the ramifications of doing this, Oliver.”

“Felicity, that’s _enough_ ,” Oliver commanded, causing everyone in the room to stand just a little bit straighter. Felicity’s mouth, which had opened again to speak, snapped shut. “What is done is done, and whatever the complications that arise, we will deal with. I would much rather live in a world where Laurel is alive and have some issues to sort out rather than a simpler one where she is not here. I’d have hoped you felt the same way.”

There was a stunned moment of silence where Caitlin, Cisco and Curtis all stood there gaping. Iris watched at Barry’s side, her slightly widened eyes the only giveaway to her feelings on the matter and Barry himself had little clue how he looked on the outside, only knowing that he would never have thought he’d see Oliver take that tone with Felicity; not since the disagreement they had had all those years ago when Barry had been brought in on the secret of the older vigilante’s identity.

Laurel stood at the midpoint between them, her arms crossed in a move Barry recognized was far more about shielding herself than it was about projecting power. Her disbelieving gaze slowly swept in Felicity’s direction, who scoffed.

“I- of _course_ I prefer it! I just think you have a bad habit of making incredibly impulsive decisions without considering all the facts or getting the rest of the team’s consensus.”

Oliver didn’t even bat an eye. “Impulsive decisions like going behind my back and giving the recruits separate parameters for a mission that ran completely counter to my stated directions? Or like releasing a dangerous prisoner in the hopes she’ll lead you to her commander?”

“You- you did that, too,” Felicity declared. “Last year, with Anarchy!”

“Yes, and I was wrong! Which Laurel pointed out to me, _privately_ instead of bringing it up in front of the team or our friends, something that in all the years we have worked together, you never fail to do,” Oliver shouted. He then squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, voice returning to a normal volume as he added, “I didn’t like doing that with you, just now. I understand why you took those risks with Siren, what you are going through. I wanted to address it later, see what you needed to let the team keep working.” His frown deepened. “But you never have afforded me the same courtesy, and I am realizing that you never will.”

“Oliver—”

“I need to ask you to take a leave of absence from the team.”

“ _What_?”

“Oliver,” Laurel said softly. “If this is about just now, I’ll be fine. I don’t want people kicked off the team just because they disagreed about bringing me back.”

“If it was just that, I’d consider other options. But this has been an ongoing problem I’ve made excuses for in the past, and that’s only compounded things.”

“What, because I make my own decisions and don’t just follow your orders? That’s enough to get kicked off a team _I_ helped build?” Felicity demanded.

“I recruited you,” Oliver said. “I thought it would be a good idea to have an expert on the computers, but that does not make you an expert in the field. A woman died a few nights ago because of an impulsive attack you made on her after Curtis had already taken measures to neutralize her threat. When that catches up with you, when you can see past the anger and grief you are feeling over Billy and _think_ about what you did, you are going to need the time off.” The anger had almost entirely receded, and it struck Barry now why Oliver was doing this; he was trying to be kind. “When you’ve had that time, we can talk. And that will include laying some ground rules about how the team is going to operate.”

Felicity nodded, her eyes particularly bright behind her glasses in a way Barry knew meant she was holding onto her tears. “Well, I can save you the time, because it is going to operate without me.” She turned and marched for the exit to the cortex, turning once to call over her shoulder, “Good luck with the recruits since they basically all hate you.”

She left a very long and awkward silence in her wake.

“Um, for the record,” Curtis began in a small voice. “While I don’t exactly _hate_ — it’s a strong word, you know — but I do, at times, find you extremely difficult to work with, and I’m not sure how I feel about what just happened.”

“Then take some time off to figure it out, Curtis,” Oliver replied. “I need a team that can function as a cohesive unit. We are never going to defeat Prometheus when we’re too busy with infighting. Decide what’s more important to you, and then stick with it.”

Curtis gulped and nodded.

Oliver turned out to face the wider room. “I’m sorry that had to happen in your space, Barry.”

“No, it — well, it’s probably best we know the situation,” he decided. “I guess I just hope things work out for the best.”

“We should probably get home. All of us,” Oliver added, with a look at Laurel.

“What are we going to tell people?” She asked.

“That’s something I’m working on, but I know you’d rather be in Star than anywhere else.”

Laurel’s lips turned up in a small smile, and she nodded.

“I can get you guys back to your base to avoid bumping into anybody who shouldn’t know yet,” Cisco offered. “And I’m still gonna get started on the suit.”

“Thanks, Cisco,” Laurel said, walking over and hugging him again. Barry thought his friend was quite happy with that development.

A new breach was made, and the remaining Team Arrow members stepped through, the somewhat tense and awkward air in the room breaking as the breach closed.

“Well, that was… something,” Iris commented. “I hadn’t realized things were so bad with their team.”

“Neither had I,” Barry admitted. He had always viewed the Arrow’s team as a well-oiled machine, something to aspire towards. It was almost comforting to know they had their issues the same as his team had had theirs. Barry hoped it never came to a head the way things just had between Oliver and Felicity, though.

He couldn’t help wondering, however, if perhaps that had needed to happen. The last couple times Barry had seen Oliver, the other man had seemed tired, run down, and missing some part of that unbeatable drive he brought to everything he did. Now it seemed he had regained it with new vigor, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what had caused it.

Barry only hoped Oliver did figure out some way for Laurel to return to Star City officially, and as a free woman. He needed her just as surely as Barry needed Iris. And like Oliver had just proven, even death could be conquered in the face of love.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting on the final chapter for this idea, everyone. I hope that you do enjoy the ending of this idea and how things with season 5 go differently. This one's a long one, so I'll let you all get to it. Enjoy!

Laurel didn’t know what to think upon stepping through yet another strange portal into their base to find a couple strangers standing there. She’d heard the others mention recruits, of course, but it seemed odd not finding her teammates there waiting for them. At least, not both her old teammates.

Thea stood from a chair at the computer monitors, arms crossing as she eyed Laurel with a mix of mistrust and pain. “Rene and Rory filled me in. So, any sudden, overpowering need to kill a person yet?”

“Aside from your usual moods,” one of the men added. Laurel cringed; Iris had told her that a number of the others’ Earth-2 doppelgangers had also been criminals, but she did not love being judged as one herself.

“Where’s Felicity?” The other man asked.

“Felicity is taking a leave of absence,” Oliver answered simply, which Laurel thought was probably for the best rather than getting into details. She was still shocked it had even happened. “And we’ll be monitoring the situation with Laurel to see if the Lotus is necessary and if we can acquire more of it.”

The first man raised his eyebrows. “I thought the plan was bring her back, lock her in a cell.”

“Well, considering I haven’t even been read my charges let alone my rights, I’m not sure I agree with that plan,” Laurel decided to interject. “There’s also the fact that I’m not really who you think I am. When Ollie tried to bring back my doppelganger, it didn’t work, but somehow he found my soul and brought me back instead.”

“And you are…?” The second of the two men asked.

Oliver stepped up beside her and laid a hand at the small of her back. “Rory, Rene, I’d like you to meet the Dinah Laurel Lance original to Earth-1, the Black Canary and someone very important to me.”

The one she could guess was named Rory gave a start; Rene looked skeptical; but in that moment, Laurel really only had eyes for Thea, who gasped and swayed a half-step forward before catching herself.

“You’re really…?”

Laurel nodded, a smile growing on her face as Thea rushed forward.

Before her friend’s arms could circle round her however, Rene called out. “Wait a minute. Hoss, how do we know she isn’t just playing you again?”

“I mean, the Flash team thinks it’s her, so if she’s not that’s gonna be awkward,” Curtis remarked finally. “I mean, I only met Laurel — the real Laurel — once. I only met her doppelganger once, too, so that doesn’t help much, I guess. But if I _had_ to say which one _this_ Laurel reminds me of more, it’s probably the real one. I think?”

“Thanks, Curtis,” Oliver said, not doing much to disguise how insincerely that was meant. “Laurel - this Laurel - knows things that only the version I knew would really be aware of. Cisco tested that for himself as well.”

“Maybe people would feel better with one more test?” Rory suggested.

“I’ve got something,” Thea said. She turned to Laurel and asked, “What did I tell you about Alex compared to Roy?”

It took Laurel a moment to recall, but she nearly laughed when she did. “That you’d be surprised who uses more tongue?” Beside her, Ollie pulled a disgusted face.

“It’s you,” Thea declared, then practically squealed as she launched herself into Laurel’s arms. Laurel grinned from ear to ear as she hugged her friend back just as tightly. This, in some ways, truly felt like a homecoming.

Thea pulled back abruptly, her eyes darting from Laurel to Oliver and back again. “But this is — I mean you guys — did you _tell_ her?”

“Tell me what?” Laurel asked, looking back at Oliver who had gone a remarkable pink color.

“One thing at a time,” he said. “First thing’s first; Thea, I’m gonna need your help drafting a proposal.”

“Okay. To City Council?”

“To the President of the United States.”

More than a few jaws dropped, and Laurel waited for Oliver to break or otherwise indicate he was joking. Yet apparently he wasn’t.

As it turned out, only the previous month Oliver’s team, Barry’s team and Sara and her crew had all repelled an alien invasion — because of _course_ there were aliens — along with a different alien from a totally separate world and had been declared heroes by the President. Who had been the Vice President, last thing Laurel knew.

Ollie’s plan was to use that goodwill from their Commander in Chief to parlay some kind of deal for Laurel to receive immunity against being prosecuted. It wasn’t a terrible idea, all things considered, except for one small problem.

“This might just cover me for everything I did as Black Canary in the past, but it’s not going to hold up for anything I continue to do.”

Oliver looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean when I go back out in the field with you guys. I’m going back out there,” she added before he could even start. To her annoyance, the Queen siblings shared an uneasy look. “I understand that what happened last spring was traumatic. It was for me, too. But I am not going to let some kind of fear from what Darhk did to me make me waste my second shot at life.”

“We know,” Thea said. “We just — it’s been hard without you. _I_ haven’t even been going out in the field much. Things were rough.”

Laurel rubbed Thea’s shoulder with one hand. “I’m sorry, and I’m glad you’re giving yourself some space to figure things out. But I don’t need time off. In fact, I’m pretty sure you need as many hands on deck as possible,” she added to Oliver, “considering Felicity is taking time off and John also doesn’t seem to be around.”

Oliver and Thea both looked down. “John’s in prison.”

“ _What_?”

“He was framed by a superior officer,” Thea said. “Cause he went back for a fourth tour. Like I said, things were rough.”

Laurel couldn’t believe what she was hearing. John couldn’t be sitting in prison; he had a family to take care of, a daughter to watch grow up. “Can we get him pardoned with me?”

“I have a friend working on his case,” Oliver told her. “That’s the best hope we have for him right now.”

Privately, Laurel made a note to review said case and said friend’s handling of it so far, but there wasn’t much else she could say now without knowing all the facts. She’d have to see John as soon as she was allowed to walk about without risk of ending up the block above or below him.

All too soon, Laurel found herself standing in one of Oliver’s beta sites in front of a large screen that currently displayed the president’s seal. Oliver stood beside her dressed in his Green Arrow uniform.

The screen finally changed, showing President Brayden sitting at her desk in the Oval Office. “Green Arrow, Miss Lance.”

“Madame President,” Oliver said. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us in this manner.”

“I’ll admit, there was some debate on my part as to whether I should insist on a meeting face-to-face. This is a very sensitive matter. But why don’t you explain from the beginning what happened to you back in April, Miss Lance?”

Laurel nodded, taking a deep breath as she recalled the story they had practiced. She didn’t relish getting to lie to the president, but all of them had agreed that the less world governments knew about the Lazarus Pits, the better. “Last April, I was taken from the hospital by men working for Damien Darhk. I guess they must have substituted some kind of fake body or something for me to make everyone think I had died. According to them, since I had lived, he wasn’t done punishing my father for betraying him. But I guess Darhk was killed before he could make good on his promise

“I was moved from place to place. They didn’t seem to know what they were going to do with me, and there wasn’t a good window of escape for a long time. I wasn’t tortured, but they would starve me or leave me without water for periods of time, and I was still recovering from my injuries.

“What allowed me to finally escape was me discovering my metahuman abilities.”

“And these are?”

She’d been expecting that question; she and Oliver had agreed it was best to be forthcoming about this development so it didn’t look like she’d been concealing something on purpose from the Commander in Chief. “I can produce screams at loud enough frequencies that the sound waves are visible and can physically impact a target. I’d offer to demonstrate, but I imagine that wouldn’t be very good for your speakers.”

“No, probably not,” Brayden agreed wryly. “And upon escaping, you returned to your city and your team.”

“Yes, Madame President,” Oliver confirmed. “We were unbelievably grateful to have Laurel back with us. But we’re afraid to lose her again.”

“Green Arrow and the others wanted me to ask you for a pardon,” Laurel said. “But if I was granted one, it wouldn’t allow me to continue to operate as Black Canary.”

“And that’s something you wish to do.”

“Yes. Being the Black Canary is a part of me, and it’s the best way I know how to help people.” Laurel shrugged. “As much as I have loved being a lawyer, I know there’s no practice or District Attorney’s office that would take a publicly known vigilante. A lot of other jobs would be leery of it, too. That’s why I have a proposal.”

President Brayden steepled her hands together and leaned a little closer towards the camera. “I’m listening.”

“I understand that last month you gave an address commending my fellow heroes. You see the need for what we do, but I imagine there are some in Washington who don’t like the idea of trusting us blindly.” Laurel laid a hand over her chest. “With my identity known, I could act as a liaison of sorts between my team and your administration. I’m accountable to both sides since everyone knows who I am.”

Brayden thought for a few moments. “That would be a tremendous responsibility for you to take on, answering for any of the actions your fellows take.”

“It would be my honor to represent each and every one of them, Madame President,” Laurel said. Okay, so she didn’t actually know Rene or Rory or even Curtis all that well, let alone most of the people Sara traveled with. But Laurel trusted Oliver and Sara’s judgement in who they would choose to fight alongside them.

“And we would be honored to have Laurel representing us,” Oliver added. “Not one of us is going to take the trust she, you or the greater public have placed in us for granted.”

“Let me say that this arrangement is an attractive idea,” Brayden finally said. “But I will need time to discuss it with my advisors. You can expect a call from me as to my final decision within two days, Black Canary. Thank you for your time.” With that, the president signed off.

“I think that went well?” Laurel said, turning to Oliver.

“I’m inclined to agree. No matter what happens, though, we’ll handle it,” Oliver told her.

A week of negotiations ensued. All the details of Laurel’s new appointment had to be worked out; how and when and to which agency or body Laurel would be reporting to, what she was expected to disclose and what infringed on the other’s expectations of privacy. She remained down in the beta site the entire time, visits from Thea or Oliver with food and reminders to sleep breaking up the monotony of video calls and working out, testing the limits of the body she had woken up in. She really was going to have to send a blood sample to Caitlin for analysis; whether it was the meta gene or something about Earth 2, she felt stronger and more durable than ever, and part of her was itching to get out into a real fight to see for herself.

She took a round trip on a private plane to sign the final documents in D.C., shaking hands with President Brayden immediately after doing so while Secret Service members stood incredibly close. She supposed a metahuman would present a highly unique risk to the life of their charge.

“I’m hopeful that this is the start of a beautiful partnership, Laurel,” the president told her as the White House cameraman snapped their picture for the next morning’s press release. Laurel would not be attending since she would be in a special closed court session back home getting her death overturned.

“I’m hoping with you, Madame President.”

It was still early evening when she arrived back in Starling even though a whole day had passed for her. “I’m exhausted, and I miss a real bed,” she admitted to Oliver, who had been waiting just outside the tarmac to pick her up. She was sure once she had fallen into the cot in the beta site she wouldn’t care what she was sleeping on, but right now with her freedom very nearly secured, she longed for those kind of simple comforts.

“Why don’t you come back with me instead?” He asked.

Laurel stilled for a moment, then gave a quiet, “Okay.”

She was still so confused about what was going on with Oliver. She had wanted to chalk up his happiness, the frequent touching and the near-constant praise to just the newness of her being back, but it had been nearly two weeks and there was no sign of it slowing. Then there was the sort of excited buzzing about Thea seemed to do whenever Oliver so much as entered the same room as Laurel. Laurel recognized the behavior from Thea’s childhood; she had a secret, and she wanted to tell it. If she hadn’t been so busy working out the details of her new life as a publicly sanctioned vigilante, Laurel would have demanded her friend just tell her already.

Stranger still was the continued lack of Felicity’s presence and Oliver’s continued lack of seeming to care about that. Laurel had honestly thought the couple would have made up by now and resumed their lives together, yet her resurrection had seen them further apart than ever. She didn’t have the whole story yet; Laurel knew something had happened to a man named Billy who Felicity had obviously cared for, and there also appeared to be tension surrounding the way Felicity and Oliver had been clashing on leading the team’s new recruits, but Laurel would have thought Oliver would be devastated to be experiencing even more troubles with the love of his life. What exactly was she missing here?

All these thoughts were running through her mind as Oliver parked the car in the garage attached to his new home as the Mayor of Star City. He came around to lead her up through the house and to what looked to be an unused guest bedroom. Laurel bid him goodnight and climbed beneath the covers, letting herself succumb to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be an extremely important day, and Laurel wanted to be prepared for it.

She woke up to Oliver’s soft knock on her door the next morning, a breakfast tray in his hands. Laurel smiled and combed some of her hair back from her face. “Breakfast in bed? Careful, I might not want to go back to my apartment.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind the company,” he replied, his eyes soft once again as he gazed at her. Laurel took a bite of her eggs so she wouldn’t be expected to reply. “I also thought you might like to call your dad before the big announcement from the president this morning.” He took out his phone and a piece of paper, setting both down on the edge of her bed. “That’s the number to the rehab facility.”

“Thank you, Ollie. For everything. Really, it’s kind of impossible to sum up how much I owe you for all this.”

Oliver shook his head. “You don’t owe me a thing. It’s what you deserve from me.”

She was speechless again. Laurel looked down, taking up the paper and fiddling with it.

“I’ll let you make that call,” Oliver said, backing out of the room.

Laurel willed the heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks back down as she tapped each number in its sequence. She waited as it rang twice before a woman with a pleasantly calm voice answered. _“Evergreen Care Center, how can I help you today?”_

“Hi, my father is staying at your facility right now, and I was hoping to speak to him. Quentin Lance?”

_“Date of birth?”_

Laurel gave it, followed by his phone number and the last four digits of his social. She’d memorized such information years ago after her mother had left them and Laurel had realized she would be his designated representative in any emergency situation.

 _“Let’s see here. Oh, yes, we do have Quentin with us. I’ll see if he’s up to a phone call this morning,”_ the woman replied, and Laurel felt her heart sink lower in her chest. She should have called sooner. _“One moment, please.”_

Laurel waited as she was put on hold, her fingers drumming on the bedspread a counterpoint to the soothing music that played. Eventually it cut out, and her father’s voice — tired to her ears — came on the line.

_“Sara? You’re back in town?”_

Laurel’s lips pressed together for a moment before she answered, “I’m not Sara, daddy.”

She heard a sharp gasp, then a _thump_ that had her worried, but her dad asked, _“Laurel?”_

“Mm-hm. I’m alive. Ollie — it’s complicated — but Ollie found out about another Pit, and I’m okay now.”

 _“Oh, God. Oh, thank God. You — I’ve missed you so much, missed your_ voice _, baby. Where are you?”_

“I’m in the city. Listen, I’m going to get myself declared alive again today, and I’ll come visit. Please don’t check out of this place, dad. If you need it, you need it. I want you to get the help you need.”

 _“I needed you, honey,”_ he argued. _“This stuff, this was just to keep me going. But I’ll be fine with you back, I promise.”_

“When does the program end?” She asked.

 _“Nother two weeks,”_ was his grudging reply.

“Then just do the two weeks. I’ll still be here. I want you to learn how to do this without me or Sara, because you know we lead crazy lives. Anything could happen.”

_“Hey, you just said you’re still gonna be there.”_

“I know.” There was a knock on her doorframe, and Laurel looked up. Thea was standing there with a suit bag that was probably holding her court clothes. “I need to get ready for my appointment. We’ll talk about this when I come see you, okay? I love you.”

_“I love you too, honey. I never said it enough, before, but I- you’re my world, Laurel.”_

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and said, “I’ll see you soon, dad.” Laurel drew in a breath as she hung up and let it out before getting up and facing Thea. “Okay. Shower?”

“Bathroom’s down the hall to the left,” Thea told her.

Laurel took a quick one, realizing belatedly that she had left the suit bag with Thea in her temporary room. She pinned her hair up and wrapped a towel around herself, hoping to sneak down the hall unnoticed. But as she drew up towards the guest bedroom door, she heard voices.

“I can’t _believe_ you still haven’t told her,” Thea complained.

“It’s not exactly something that comes up in a normal conversation,” Oliver replied.

“Yeah, but how you feel at least? Ollie, you have a real chance to be happy, and I don’t want to see you walk away from that because you think you’re unworthy or something like that.”

As much as Laurel desperately wanted to know what Oliver’s response to that would be, she was hearing a conversation that was clearly meant to be private. She was also in danger of running late if she didn’t get dressed soon, not to mention that she was starting to get a little cold out in the hall with nothing but a towel on.

So Laurel pushed the door open the full way. “If I can have the room for a few minutes?”

The Queen siblings looked her way, but only Oliver sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes unmistakably flicked up and down her body for a moment, and Laurel flushed with heat a second time that morning at the way he licked his lips.

Thea crossed between them, but it wasn’t until she called, “Ollie, coming?” that either of them seemed to snap out of it.

“Right. Uh, sorry.”

Laurel backed up to give him room as he practically fled out into the hall, and she thought she caught Thea smirking as her younger friend shut the door. Laurel fanned her face with one hand as she grabbed her clothes to finally change.

Her day in court was short-lived considering all she was being required to do was appear in person and give the judge the written version of the statement she had delivered to the president, signed by both herself and Brayden. Judge Moore reviewed the document before adding her own signature.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss Lance.”

Laurel smirked. Moore couldn’t know how literally that statement applied to her case. “Thank you, judge.”

She was shepherded into the car around the side of the courthouse. “Brayden’s press conference just finished up,” Thea told her. “You’re officially the world’s first publically-sanctioned hero. You ready for a gig in PR?”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight,” Laurel answered. Oliver had scheduled a gala for tonight, ostensibly to check in with some of the higher-society constituents, but really to serve as Laurel’s reintroduction to Star City. It was strange how fast everything seemed to move now that she was alive again. And she was so, so glad for it. Her life had always been messy and complicated and confusing. She hadn’t known what to do with all that peace.

\---

Adrian Chase had a problem. And he hadn’t planned for problems.

Everything he had worked for these last five years, every piece he had put in place, had ensured that Oliver was walking right down the path he had designed for him without even knowing it, all the while thinking he had a fighting chance. There simply weren’t room for mistakes.

But one had apparently been made, and as the morning news told him, it all came down to Dinah Laurel Lance.

Adrian had been satisfied overall with the Black Siren’s performance and the effect she had worked on Oliver and his team, the trauma that having to fight a woman that looked like their departed friend had brought on. Even if he had had to remind the woman of her place now and then, she had always been meant as more of a blunt instrument than anything. Something to let out and play for a while before she was rounded up by ARGUS’ agents.

At least, that was what Adrian had _assumed_ had happened to her. That had been his first mistake.

Next had been not trying harder to learn why Oliver had taken a sudden trip out of the country or why he had come back looking as though he were walking on clouds. Strange, considering that his spying had informed him that Felicity Smoak was no longer going to the Green Arrow’s base of operations. If Oliver’s team had truly splintered so badly, what could he be happy about?

In his guise as DA, he had had no luck getting his ‘friend’ to open up to him about it, or the impromptu press conference and gala he had scheduled two weeks after his strange behavior had begun. All Oliver had said was, “You’ll see.”

And he was seeing it now. He was seeing her right on his television screen.

_“President Brayden, surprising the nation and perhaps the world this morning with a stunning revelation — Star City’s own Dinah Laurel Lance is alive and well. In a written statement, Miss Lance explains that she was taken captive by men associated with the late terrorist Damien Darhk and managed to escape only last month. Lance was famously exposed by her friend Mayor Oliver Queen as the vigilante known as the Black Canary. In the president’s release, she indicated that not only will charges not be brought against Black Canary, but instead Miss Lance will be taking on the role of official liaison between the Capitol and the growing roster of masked men and women we have seen take place over the years. We at Channel 52 say welcome back, Miss Lance, and Star City should be happy to know their Canary has flown home.”_

He wanted to break something. How _dare_ that woman? Who did she think she was, turning her back on him after he had rescued her from the Flash’s pipeline and running into Oliver’s arms? What sort of game was she playing?

Since he was on the guest list for Oliver’s gala tonight, he intended to find out. After all, he was pretty sure who the guest of honor was going to be.

Sure enough, that night Adrian stood in a crowd that applauded as Oliver led who everyone thought was their miraculously returned hero up to a podium with her arm looped through his. His eyes practically shined as he let Laurel go and stood just off to the side to give her the floor.

“Thank you,” she began, a picture of grace and humility. She had perfected her act in the weeks since Adrian had seen her last, and he would be hard-pressed to tell the difference now between her and the original. He could acknowledge a guise well done.

“I’m thankful and relieved to be able to stand here in front of you all tonight and be welcomed back to my home. I can’t wait to get back to work making this city the best that it can be, and I hope you all feel the same.

“I’ve been doing everything I can to catch up on what I missed while I was gone. One of those things is the significant damage done to the Glades district last spring, a section of our city which has already suffered too much over the years. There is a donation plate available tonight to help fund the relief efforts Oliver and his administration have put in place. Please consider giving if you are able.

“That’s all I really have to say at this time. I’d rather speak to you all personally. I ask that the questions about my captivity be limited. It’s not exactly a period of my life that I want to dwell on.”

Adrian fought down a smirk at that. Clever, he had to give her that.

“Thank you.” Laurel Lance stepped back from the podium and rejoined Oliver as the two made their way out to the floor to speak with groups of people here and there. They made a fine couple, which begged the question: what had she told Oliver? How had she convinced him to go along with this? Adrian had clearly underestimated the power even a shadow of the woman Oliver had lost last year would have over him.

Eventually, the pair of them made their way around the room to where he stood. “Laurel, this is Adrian Chase, my DA.”

“Well, it’s good to meet you.” There was not a hint of recognition in her features. Did she hope that here, in public, they were trapped into playing their roles, that he wouldn’t be able to get the truth out of her?

For now, he smiled politely. “You as well.”

“Adrian’s agreed to help with John’s case,” Oliver added in an undertone.

Her eyes lit up. “I was hoping to hear more of the details on that.”

Well that was interesting. Was she angling to speak with him now?

“I’d be happy to get such an accomplished lawyer’s position on it. Who knows? If things had been different, we could’ve been working this together,” Adrian said, his one hand clenched right where it rested in his pocket as she failed to give any hint that she understood his double meaning. “If I could borrow Miss Lance for a moment, Oliver? Shop talk, you could call it.”

“That’s fine with me. I’m sure you and Laurel have a lot to say on the subject. I’ll just be making the rounds.” With a last smile in Laurel Lance’s direction, the man turned and walked back through the crowd.

“It’s a little loud in here, don’t you think?” Adrian asked, not waiting for an answer before he turned and left the main hall. There was a smaller, unused room in the venue just across the hall, a few tables and chairs being stored and little else. It would do.

“So, Oliver told me you were able to have John remain here by invoking the Star City charter,” she said as she entered the room.

Adrian rolled his eyes. “What exactly is your plan here?”

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You can drop the act, Siren,” he said, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “I highly doubt Oliver is listening in considering how well you’ve apparently wrapped him around your finger. I have to wonder how you did it.”

She stared at him. “How do you know about Black Siren?”

Adrian was about fed up with the games. “How does the man who sprung you from a four-by-four cell know who you are? You can play dumb with Oliver, but it won’t work on me.”

“You’re Prometheus,” she breathed, and the shock looked so genuine, he found himself honestly wondering if she somehow _hadn’t_ known, no matter that he knew she did.

“I’m glad you’re caught up, but you seem to need a reminder of who exactly is in charge here,” Adrian said, reaching swiftly to circle his hand around her throat.

Her eyes bulged as her nails dug sharply into his hand. He threw her down before her kick could connect with his side; he just felt the scrape of her heel against his pant leg.

“This new life you’re trying to build yourself here on this Earth, you wouldn’t have it without me. I can take it away just as easily.”

She shot up and lunged at him immediately, and Adrian sidestepped her, letting her careen straight into one of the tables. The crash did not seem to faze her, for she whirled around and was on him before he could dodge a second time, clawing and punching at every bit of him she could reach. Her eyes were wild, and without his training he might have been overwhelmed.

But he rammed her with his shoulder to send her staggering back, one of her heels snapping. 

Adrian straightened his jacket, reaching into an inner pocket for his stars as she rallied, lips pulled back in an animalistic snarl.

One thing was finally clear: this was not the Black Siren. This was something else. Something worse.

\---

Oliver walked through the throng of people, nodding in acknowledgement whenever he caught the eye of someone he and Laurel had already spoken to. So far, the night had gone off without a hitch, for which he was immensely grateful. Laurel deserved a night of celebration like this.

He kept waiting for some sign that he was dreaming again, some indication that it was all about to be ripped away. He didn’t get lucky like this, not ever.

There was so much he wanted to say to her, it was hard to put the feeling into words. Thea made it sound so easy, but then Thea didn’t know how he had failed to let Laurel know what she meant to him that night in the hospital when she confessed her own feelings. Feelings she hadn’t spoken of or acted on since. Not even now that he and Felicity were well and truly estranged.

He had expected to feel more regret over that, but truthfully it had made some things easier. The recruits had started shaping up more, whether that was out of fear of being kicked off the team or what he couldn’t exactly say. But he was glad to be able to feel in control of this unit he had agreed to take on. Thea was coming down to the base more to borrow the training area, too, and he had a feeling she was inching back towards the life of Speedy now that her partner in the field had returned. With Laurel’s new role official, she would be joining them down in the bunker rather than the beta site as well. It would be good to have more people with experience than just himself out there.

But how to show Laurel that, that he was happy and hopeful about the future again? And a future with her. It wasn’t even a question of _if_ he should tell her; he didn’t think he could hide the way he felt for very long. When she had come back to her room that morning looking so much like the dream he had had, Oliver had forgotten how to breathe for a moment. Forgotten, too, that he was not her fiancé with the permission to look upon her with awe and desire.

She deserved to know. He just had to get over this old fear of his, convince himself he wouldn’t screw it up this time, and tell her.

Oliver wandered the perimeter of the room as these thoughts played out in his head until he found himself standing near the door he had made note that Adrian and Laurel had left through. He wanted to be able to catch her when she came back, missing her by his side already.

“I was starting to wonder if I might catch you alone.”

He froze. “Susan…”

It was not that he had forgotten the reporter he had taken on a date. But guilt churned in his stomach all the same as he turned to face her fully. There was no reason for it; Laurel had been, as far as he had known, beyond his reach in this life, and had given her deathbed blessing to him finding happiness without her — even if she had felt that would be with Felicity at the time. 

“You must be really happy to have her back,” Susan said.

“I am,” he answered with a small smile he couldn’t help. He felt guilt towards Susan as well, considering what he knew was really in his heart. He should have called her to end things before now. “Listen, about, um—”

Susan held up a hand to stop his halting attempt. “It’s been nice, Oliver, but I’d have to be blind not to see what Laurel Lance means to you. And I’m big enough to know there’s little point getting in between that.” She smirked as she added, “Probably better I don’t get too heavily involved with the politician I’m trying to cover anyway.”

Oliver nodded. “Thank you. Really.”

She nodded and turned to leave. The relief that Oliver felt was cut short when he heard a loud _crash_ from somewhere out in the venue. Susan pivoted on the balls of her feet.

“What was that?”

“I’m not sure.” Oliver slipped out of the door, unsurprised when Susan followed him. He was fairly certain it had come from the room directly ahead. “Stay behind me, okay?” He asked as he cautiously approached the door, which had been left just slightly ajar. He peered through the gap, eyes widening in alarm at what he saw.

Adrian stood in the middle of the floor, his suit and hair rumpled and a split lip slowly leaking blood. And Laurel, missing one shoe and the other snapped off at the heel, struggled to free the skirt of her dress from where it was pinned to the wall by three throwing stars.

“I’d love to understand what you really are, but Oliver isn’t ready to know my secret yet. I’m afraid there’ll be need for a fresh grave in Starling Cemetery.” Adrian flicked his wrist with practiced ease, another star sailing through the air.

Oliver threw the door open and leapt in front, remembering Susan’s presence at the last minute. He forced his instinct to snatch the weapon out of the air down, instead letting it slash his upper-left arm, teeth gritting at the pain. But the weapon clattered uselessly several feet from Laurel.

He turned to see Adrian’s shocked gaze, and Oliver willed his voice to remain steady as he asked, “What’s the meaning of this?”

Adrian’s answer was cut off by the _rip_ of fabric, and Oliver ducked as Laurel released a sonic scream, features contorted with blind rage. Adrian fell to it, hands clapped over his ears as he cried out in agony.

Laurel marched towards him, her intent to worsen Adrian’s suffering clear. Oliver reached out and caught her around the waist. “Laurel! Laurel, stop!”

The scream died, and she blinked as if coming back to herself. “I- I wasn’t — oh, God.”

“Hey, it‘s okay.” He rubbed her back as she sagged against his shoulder. It was clear what must have happened; the blood lust had been triggered during whatever fight had broken out here. He was just glad he had intervened in time to keep a life off her conscious. Even if it was the life of a man who must have had some sort of long game to betray Oliver planned. Who really was Adrian Chase?

He caught Susan’s eye as she surveyed the whole scene and asked, “Can you call 911?”

She nodded. “I take it the DA is actually our Throwing Star Killer,” Susan remarked, gesturing to the weapons still in the wall, little strips of Laurel’s dress hanging from them.

“Looks like it,” he agreed. “I don’t have a statement on that just now. I, uh, I’ll see what the police are able to find out about it.”

They stuck around long enough to see Adrian taken away. He was only just beginning to stir as he was led away in handcuffs to be looked over at the hospital before being transferred into the SCPD’s custody. Oliver also placed a discrete call to Lyla’s office to see what ARGUS could do about assuming jurisdiction over the case as soon as possible. Adrian knew far too much, even if Oliver didn’t yet understand how.

Laurel’s other shoe was located, and he helped her to hobble towards the back entrance of the venue, hoping to shield her from as much of the press as possible. The last thing needed right now was the press photographing her in a dress with the skirt torn halfway up her thigh.

The driver took them back to his place. Oliver knew it was likely only Laurel’s shock at how she had lost control that was keeping her from asking to be dropped off at either the beta site or the old apartment Thea still owned. She would probably return to the latter soon if he didn’t say anything. Didn’t make any kind of sign.

Once they were inside, Laurel bent down and undid the straps that were barely holding her broken shoes on. “Well, some night,” she remarked with her head still tilted down, hair half-hiding her face.

“It wouldn’t be Star City if something eventful didn’t happen,” he replied. “Was, uh, was that the first time you’ve used…”

“The sonic scream? On purpose, yeah. I didn’t really know how strong it would be. I could’ve killed him.” Her eyes had a haunted look to them as she continued, “One second we were just talking, the next was like he just flipped personalities, was trying to threaten me. He thought I was her. Siren.”

“If he’s really Prometheus, then that makes sense.”

“The way he talked about me – her,” she amended, giving a slight shake of her head as if to clear it. “It was like he thought he owned her. The others told me the things she did, but _nobody_ should be talked to like that.”

“I know,” he agreed. “She told me that she wanted out. I never found out if it was the truth or a lie.” Seeing the way his Laurel felt about it now, he thought maybe it just might have been a truth, even one that Black Siren hadn’t actually wanted to admit to herself. Or maybe that was wishful thinking; thanks to the others, he would never know.

“Then he attacked me. I just lost it, and when you were hurt—” Her hand reached out, just barely brushing his arm below the gaze bandage a paramedic had applied. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed him,” she stated. “I guess I’m not as different from her as I thought.”

“Maybe, but that’s not such a bad thing,” he said. She looked up at him in surprise. “If I hadn’t seen some of you in her, I might not have gone so far to try and bring her back. I might never have known there was a way to save _you_. Black Siren wasn’t evil, no matter what the others say,” he added. “I think she was just lost. You know what that’s like.”

She nodded.

“But you’re not a killer, Laurel. That was the effect of the Pit.”

“I was hoping the new one wouldn’t have the same side effects.”

“So was I,” he admitted. “But we’ll get more of the Lotus. You’ll be fine, just like Thea.”

Laurel’s lips twisted in a funny half smile. “Thea doesn’t seem fine right now. I think she’s going to lose it if you don’t tell me whatever it is she wants you to.”

Oliver swallowed. There it was. He was being handed a perfect opportunity to open up, to be truthful about his feelings. There was never anything half as terrifying as that. “Thea… what she wants me to tell you, it wouldn’t make any sense to come right out and say. There’s things you have to know.”

“Like?”

“Like how much losing you hurt. That it caused me to look back on the last few years and think of all the time I wasted. How much I wished things had been different for you and me.”

Laurel’s throat bobbed, but she remained silent, listening.

“And a couple months ago, my wish was granted.”

“A couple months?” She asked, and he didn’t blame her for the confusion. Laurel had only been back for a month.

“Yeah. See, when the Dominators came to Earth, they took a few of us hostage, to try and study us for potential weaknesses. We were placed in some kind of stasis where our minds went to a made-up reality based on our dearest-held dreams. Thea and I were back at the Manor with mom and my father. They were alive.”

“Oh, Ollie,” Laurel said softly.

“Yeah. The thing was, you were there, too. And it was almost our wedding day.”

Laurel’s mouth fell open. He didn’t know if the shock on her face was a good or bad thing, but Oliver also knew that he needed to say this no matter the outcome.

“I love you, Laurel,” he confessed. “And I know it doesn’t make up for all the years or the ways that I’ve hurt you whether I meant to or not. All I know is, when you told me how you still felt, all I could think about was what could’ve been for us. It haunted me the whole time that I thought we’d lost that chance.” Even now, he could see her in that beautiful white gown, her face so sad as he was forced to leave to help the others. “I wondered how I hadn’t seen it, why you couldn’t have said something before.”

“You were happy,” she said, as if that was all that needed saying. Her eyes shone bright with unshed tears. “You were happier without me.”

He shook his head. “The one thing I haven’t been this past year is happy without you. This, right now, is the best I have felt in a long time.”

He didn’t just mean because he had finally given voice to his feelings. Oliver had a team that was learning to respect his judgement calls in the base and in the field; he honestly didn’t miss the constant back talk on the comms. He felt better, too, seeing Thea happier and knowing that once Quentin finished his rehab program that he would come home to his daughter and be whole again. The looming threat of Prometheus had been ended as abruptly as it had begun. None of this would have been possible without Laurel.

“I know this cannot be an easy decision to make. I understand if, whatever our feelings for each other are, you’d prefer to remain as we were before that night. All I’ll ever ask of you is to be part of my life, Laurel, because it’s a far less full one without you,” he finished.

Her head tilted as her lips pressed right together for a moment, considering him. Then at last she stepped forward, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You know I never do things halfway, Ollie.” She rose onto her tiptoes, her hand at his cheek guiding his lips to meet hers in that perfect synchronous dance he had longed for, so much better than his dream for knowing that it was real.

Oliver smoothed his hands over her arms, down her back and up into her hair, unable to choose now that he was granted it all. Laurel seemed of a similar mind, hands cupping his face then smoothing down his shoulders, then up and his suit jacket. They were each aware of the time they had wasted before and how they could never get it back, and it spurred them on towards making the most of the time they had ahead. The time they very nearly hadn’t had.

He regretted what had happened to Laurel’s counterpart from Earth-2. No version of her deserved a violent end in his eyes. He took some comfort at least that she was now free from men like Adrian or Zoom. Maybe her soul had gone to whatever was next beyond the grave to find the Ollie she had truly loved and not just the man that looked like him. He chose to believe that, since he’d been granted the same beautiful dream in its own way.

For all that he and Laurel had suffered through, if it meant they arrived at this point together, Oliver wouldn’t change it. No matter how tempting it could be to fix the past, he knew how fragile time could be. And this time, at last, was theirs.

\---

Talia al Ghul was more familiar with disappointment than one of her ability and lineage would like. Her first disappointment had come from her Beloved. Bruce had been a fine warrior, full of discipline, intellect, skill and honor. Yet he had lacked the conviction to bring a permanent end to those who committed evil in the world and so he had left her and her father’s League behind.

Then there had been her father himself. She could admit with chagrin that Bruce had been the one to initially question her father’s intention to pass on the title of Ra’s al Ghul to her. As the years had worn on, Talia had seen for herself that he would never do so. And so she had left, forming her own following to carry on the mission she still believed in.

Yet now, two of her own students had disappointed her one after the other. Oliver Queen and the one who called himself Adrian Chase. The former had killed her father and handed the League of Assassins to a traitor which caused it to fail less than a year later, and the latter had failed to be her instrument of revenge. Instead, she currently watched as the news continued to cover his arrest and the accusations mounting against him. Something would have to be done, and quickly. She was not ready for The connection Mr. Chase had to her to be revealed, as it might should he be questioned.

Talia had left it up to her student to plan the reckoning Oliver should face, who it would involve and where it would be. All of this would have to be abandoned now, and more planning would have to be done. Especially to accommodate the unexpected wrinkle that had developed: the return of this Earth’s Dinah Laurel Lance, Oliver’s own Beloved.

Talia’s spies had followed Oliver and his associates’ progress to the mountains of Siberia and confirmed to her that one of the rumored Lazarus Pits was in that location. She had also been made aware of the comings and goings of Miss Lance to and from the United States’ Capitol. Yet she had not realized until tonight — nor had Mr. Chase, it seemed — that rather than the copy of her from another Earth, Oliver had somehow managed to resurrect the original. It would be like him to play with those kind of forces with little regard for any consequences.

Talia left her current base of operations to deal with one of those consequences. Mr. Chase was going to be moved from where he was being seen at Star City General to a holding cell at the downtown precinct. It was her task to ensure this never came to pass.

She took up her position only minutes before Mr. Chase was escorted out the front doors towards a waiting transport van. From the rooftop across the street, she watched her chosen spy approach at a walking pace, the umbrella he had taken from their supply store tucked under his arm. She saw the moment he fired the jet of poison gas from a crushed cyanide ampule, though it was truly invisible to the eye, then smirked as an officer moved to intercept him from fully crossing paths with the police escort. Her agent backed away, feigning as though he had not realized what was going on, and crossed the street to continue his walk.

Just as Mr. Chase was walked up the steps of the transport van, he collapsed to one knee, the poison already taking its effect. None of those around him would realize that was what it was, of course. To them, it would appear as though he suffered a sudden heart attack. They would see the matter as closed and put the unfortunate memory of their fallen District Attorney behind them.

Oliver would suspect, of course. Oliver always suspected. But he would only have his suspicions. For now, Talia would retreat and reassess the best way to bring retribution to her former student. Let him grow complacent with his loved ones; she had all the time the Lazarus water allowed her to have her revenge.


End file.
